The Beginnings of the Harvest Season (OPEN)

[acrookedchild]

1) Business as usual

The shop was easy to manage. People came mostly or Tarot or palmistry, but she had a small, steady client base who came from what they considered spells. They were longer-ranged, though. Rituals, not spells, and Abigail didn't have the heart to tell them the truth about the strange ways in which they could work. Not that there wasn't magic in them... Still, no one seemed too concerned that their dreams of love and money didn't immediately come true.

She'd gotten used to referencing the 'Rule of Three' and 'Mother Earth' and saying 'Blessed be.' The clients came, after all, for the New Age sort. They expected Wiccanism, not true witchcraft, so Abby gave them what they wanted. They paid for it. She did, of course, try to work magic where it was needed, and she trusted the craft of the Tarot.

Still, the shop is open, still offering its first Tarot reading free and displaying the rates for everything else on a sign immediately visible upon entry.


2) Everyday dangers on the streets - closed to Cooper
cw: violence from/to a dog

It's a perfectly nice August day. Great for walking from shop to shop. Mostly, she's stocking up on candles and incense for her work, but she's got a few books for herself and other such things. Overall, it's just a nice day to herself. Which makes Abby more than content.

She stops on the sidewalk for a few moments to admire a set of painting in a window display. They might be nice on the wall of her shop. Something to give the place an even more homey feel.

A slight ruckus catches her ear. Someoneone trying to get their dog under control. A woman scolded a man for being so stubborn that he wouldn't even muzzle it. And then-- And then real shouting.

Before Abby can even really register what's going on, there's pain in her leg. Lots and lots of pain. She staggers as the dog sinks its teeth in more. When she's finally really aware of the situation, she twists to try and kick the dog anywhere she can with her free leg, though there are tears already streaking her face.

And she's screaming, too. Saying something? Or just screaming? She doesn't really know. It hurts too much to think and fear robs any remaining senses. People are trying to help, but the dog just bites at them and goes back to lunging at her.


3) A ritual at night - closed to Balem

Late at night on the 17th, Abigail left her flat and travelled by car to Bedfont Lakes Country Park. She wanted to do it when no one else would be there to see. Or, at least, when there was as little chance of being seen as possible. After all, this ritual was meant to be done in safety and privacy.

She sets down her small bag and takes out her supplies. They're simple, hardly worth notice. An apple, a penknife, an embroidery needle, and a packet of sugar.

After a few moments to steady herself, she takes up the apple and the knife, cutting the apple in half horizontally. With one half in each hand, she looked out over the north lake. Then, she spoke, quiet and serious.

"By the water in my blood,
By the rivers of the earth,
By the tides of the moon,
Bring me one who knows my worth."

She repeated the words in a gentle rythym several more times. Nine in all, if one was present and counting through them all. Then, she put the half of the apple in her right hand down on her bag and took up the embroidery needle. She drew a downward pointing triangle on the right side of the flesh, then her name along the bottom, then, at the left, a waxing crescent moon with the needle.

Half of the packet of sugar was emptied onto the apple half, and she threw it into the lake, as far from her as she could. Then, she sprinkled the other half of the sugar on the remaining half of the apple and began to eat it.


4) At the mercy of public transportation

Abby has decided that she hates crutches. They make everything a hundred times more complicated than they need to be, and they slow her down. But, well, they're better than having lost her leg to that mutt attacking her. Which is still so weird. Nothing like that has ever happened before.

Which means there's plenty to consider. That's why she's at a little coffee house, sitting on one of their sidewalk tables, as she waits for a late-evening bus to take her home.

She has a notebook in front of her, and she jots things down at certain points before scratching it out and writing something else. It could be (and probably is) something as simple as a grocery list for another time.

Comments

[acrookedchild]

Abigail laughed. Not an amused laugh but almost a tired one.

"Would you care for the long version or the short?"

After all, for a fae... She could recount the history of her line.

[emotioneater]

He holds the dog at arm's length as it struggles. He can smell the blood, a scent so strong it's almost overpowering. The sight of Abby's tears brings on a unnatural fury. This stupid beast has caused his friend to be in pain and so it will have to pay. Cooper snaps the dog's neck without pity, its furry body suddenly going limp in his grip. He tosses it aside, barely paying attention to the dog's owners as they run forward to see what's happened to their pet.

With the dog taken care of, he turns his attention to Abby. Kneeling beside her, he studies her leg as someone in the crowd dials 999. One hand absentmindedly traces the blood on the ground. He can't help it, it's practically instinctive. This doesn't look good. "When you do things, girlie, you don't do them by halves."

[acrookedchild]

Abby lets out a strange, stilted laugh. Because she's caught somewhere between crying and really laughing. There's nothing else for her to do. And, God, it hurts. Which makes her only vaguely aware of what Cooper did to the dog and that she's badly injured very close to a vampire.

"You'd think I'd learn and just stay in my house."

For all she tried to sound like she was kidding, she knew there was only so much of a joke to be made. Things were getting more dangerous every time they happened. Which meant it was nearly the eleventh hour. She had to seriously think about contracting a fae. Soon.

[entitles]

"To be long by my standards you'd have to spend a good decade telling it to me," he said, "Give me whichever version you like."

[acrookedchild]

"Sir Roderick Widdowson. Not the first Widdowson, but the first of the Widdowsons."

The ones who'd given the family their reputation.

"He was an influential member of Queen Elizabeth I's court. However, he and his wife couldn't conceive. Without an heir, the line would have died out. So, he turned to truly dark magic. Human sacrifice, even children. Equivalent exchange, if you will."

And then the mistake had come.

"To my understand, one of the sons he took was the child of a widow witch. She found out only after her son died. The story is that his ghost contacted her. I don't know for certain. But she used her own life to lay a curse. Every Widdowson would suffer tragedy until their bloodline was wiped out."

She shook her head, taking a deep breath in.

"Sir Roderick contracted with a powerful fae to make sure his line continued and to protect the children of the Widdowson name. However, the witch's curse wasn't just on him. It was on all his descendants. So... we've done it for centuries. Making a deal with the fae to live and to have a child."

[entitles]

"A curse that lasts for generations...I've done that, a few times. Not the easiest feat. The costs are steep," he said. Someone's life had to be pretty much ruined already before they resorted to it.

"And you've made this deal, then?"

[acrookedchild]

"Not yet," she admitted. "I was safe until I was eighteen -- the original deal. That fae still resides in Geap Manor. Still protects all the children of the Widdowson line. Particularly the first-born."

But now, well. She was an adult and time was running out.

[entitles]

"I cannot tell the future, as it is. The stars do tell something - but there are so many billions of threads of fate that it would take longer than your lifetime for me to decipher it," he said, "But I can change it, to an outcome of your choosing."

[acrookedchild]

"For a price."

She understands how these things work. She's always understood. Unthank taught her well, made sure she understood the fae. It's still a terrifying thought, finally making the deal.

[entitles]

"Of course, for a price. It is not an easy task, not something I would do for free," he said.

[acrookedchild]

"I'm not making a deal right now. I'd need time to prepare a proper contract, of course," Abby murmured, though her mind was already beginning to write it. "But. If I were to, with you. What price would you ask?"

Because he knew the basic situation she was up against, and she wanted time to prepare herself for the price.

[entitles]

"I'd usually need a soul, for something like that," he said, "But I imagine you know what that would mean."

Being eaten, basically.

"But we are allies, of sorts, so I can be generous and spare you that particular fate. It still won't be easy, but..." he paused for a moment, "How much do you know about fae?"

[acrookedchild]

Abby was silent for a few moments, considering. What she was asking for a large favor. A high price was to be expected.

"Would you require a soul immediately? Or would you accept a deferred payment?"

Because it was a price she was willing to pay. Not right away, no. But eventually.

[entitles]

"Deferred is fine. But in the interest of keeping the peace between your coven and the fae, I should warn you that my own family has a history as well," he said.

A history of being ruthless and vicious and playing with the lives of men.

"I am from the line of Abrasax, if that name holds any meaning to you. Do not attempt to use that knowledge against me," he said sternly, "But use it to think carefully on this deal."

[damnyank]

"A witch who's allied with Circle Daybreak; who offers his aid to Ms. Redbright herself and her Night Council." He pauses for moment. "And a witch who cares little for alliances, or covens, for that matter."

He could go into his whole reasoning in regards to why he's tied himself to any side, despite his hazy loyalties, but that's far too complicated an explanation for a middle-of the-side walk encounter.

"I'm bein' honest when I say I don't give a damn." He shrugs. "Folks should be able to pursue any knowledge they're keen on learnin'. Ain't nobody got a right to tell them yes or no."

Most of the time. "Well, unless they're causing harm."

Jackson offers her a genuine smile. "I'm not sayin' you can trust me, but I promise, I won't hurt you. Hippocratic oath and all."

4

[vampiracy]

He doesn't have much patience for most human sustenance. He will eat when out for dinner, yet when he's wandering around of his own possession he rarely cares for the hassle. It's more work than anything to eat something he doesn't need, even if it tastes good. The only exceptions seem to be alcohol and coffee — both of which help with his cravings, or at least, he pretends that they do.

Which explains what he's up to in the coffee shop, ordering an unholy amount of espresso, as much as he could get without the barista warning him about the possible health concerns involved. He's not expecting to spot someone familiar, and when he does... He doesn't miss the crutches, even though the bandaged leg is covered.

"I hate to trouble you when you're preoccupied, but the crutches have me a bit concerned," he interjected, and his expression says just that, though perhaps his head and his heart isn't quite in it. "You weren't sporting those when I saw you last. Are you quite well?"

[acrookedchild]

"I'm not really familiar with your family name," she admitted.

But she knew what to do. At least to some extent, so she looked right at him.

"What should I know before entering into a contract with you?"

[acrookedchild]

"Aside from a newfound dislike of dogs, I'm mostly okay." Abigail manages a smile as she looks up from where she's sitting. She'd prefer to laugh off the whole thing, but... Well. It ran deep. The wounds were bad enough, but the entire experience left her incredibly shaken, even if she wasn't keen on admitting that. "Got everything stitched and bound up. Doctor said there'll probably be a lot of scarring, though."

No more knee-length dresses or shorter. No more shorts in the summer. And it'd be a long time before she ever wanted to get into a swimsuit again. Still, it was better than being dead, even if every time she had to look at the mess she started crying again.

"I'm... learning... how to get around on these stupid things."

[chronobreak]

"Can do." It's easy enough to lie to people he doesn't care about.

[vampiracy]

He's actually fond of dogs, at least in general. He's never had one yet he's always found the creatures quite charming, unless they'd been trained to be cruel. It must have been quite a beast to go after a human like that, he thinks grimly. It's impossible not to know the ill-fated history of her family, and it seemed that Abigail was no exception. His eyes narrowed for a moment as his mind wandered — could a family truly be so horribly unlucky? Or was it something deeper? "I can imagine," he noted quietly, imagining what sort of vehemence would have been required to make that sort of injury.

She mentioned she was learning her way around with crutches, and he made a sympathetic noise. "Must make transport dreadful." Mostly he avoided it, because of what he was. Too many smells, too many heartbeats. He may be older than most vampires, yes, that did not make his control of his hunger peerless. Avoiding temptation was quite vital, and there was no escaping a hunger pang that struck on the tube. "I don't suppose you need a ride. I drove here, I could give you a ride if you like."

[entitles]

"Know that I am among the oldest of my kind, and I have very discerning tastes," he said, "And know that if you give me your soul I will devour it upon your death unless you negotiate otherwise."

He was an ancient wish-granter made partially of fire with a fondness for devouring souls...and yet he'd still get angry if anyone called him a demon.

[emotioneater]

"After seeing somethin' like this happen to ya, I'm of a mind t'agree." He has a vest on and takes it off, folding it up and putting gentle pressure on her leg. The material immediately gets soaked through. It'll be best to stop that bleeding as soon as they can or she'll be worse off than she already is.

As if in a daze, he brings one hand up to his face, blood all over his fingers. He licks it off slowly, his pupils shrinking down at the taste of fresh blood. There's a moment where he stares down at Abby. It'd be very easy to get her away from the crowd. Alone and injured, she'd be easy prey. The wail of an ambulance in the distance snaps him out of the train of thought. Bad enough that he's tasted her blood. He will not give into temptation.

[acrookedchild]

"I usually drive myself. I hate being at the mercy of the tube and buses." But with one leg mostly useless right now, driving wasn't exactly something she could do. Once she was a bit more healed up, then, yes. She'd be back to driving. But his offer. Oh. She can't help but smile.

"Would you?"

Dangerous? Perhaps. But Abigail trusted other people easily. Too much so, she knew, but it happened nonetheless. Especially someone who already seemed vouched for by his appearance at charity events and having invited her to a wonderful evening at the orchestra.

"I'd be grateful," she replied. "I'm staying at my home in Enfield rather than my flat, if it's not too much trouble."

[acrookedchild]

"The only stipulation on that front I'd ask is that, when the time came, you'd ensure that my child or children were not present to see the devouring happen."

There were details to figure out, a proper contract to make, but it could be done. Ought to be, she knew. Time was running out, and she needed to act quickly.

[acrookedchild]

Abigail stares up at him through both his ministrations and the licking of his fingers. The dog hadn't killed her, but Cooper still might. There's nothing she could do to stop him, she knows. All she can do is wait. Wait and pray that she doesn't die tonight. But the blood's seeping, even with the material wrapped around her leg.

Still, she can hear the sirens. If she focuses on them, she can keep herself on an even enough keel. At least for now.